


I'm trifling with a sacred thing (you)

by TheVineSpeaketh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Emotionally Repressed, Fluff, M/M, Mute Byleth, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Canon, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 09:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVineSpeaketh/pseuds/TheVineSpeaketh
Summary: “The ceremony was beautiful,” Byleth signed.“It was all my wife’s idea,” Dimitri said. “The colors, the cake, the clothes. I’m afraid I make a very poor aesthetician.”Byleth loosed one of his rare smiles on Dimitri, his fingers spasming. Byleth showed joy in the smallest fidgets of his hands, in the subtle wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he signed. “You have wonderful taste. I always enjoyed your looks at Garreg Mach.”Byleth and Dimitri have an unexpected reunion at Dimitri's wedding, and everything they've been hiding comes to light.





	I'm trifling with a sacred thing (you)

Escaping the heat and the consistent susurrations of the crowd within the church, Dimitri stepped out into the cold evening, drawing his coat closer as the brisk wind clutched at his thin wedding suit. Though the cold was brutal, Dimitri embraced it, letting the breeze scare the light sweat on his brow away. 

He breathed out, watching his breath danced off toward the edge of the courtyard. As he watched, his gaze snagged on an unusual dark spot leaning on a pillar in the corner of the sunset-lit temple courtyard. Watching his footing, he carefully descended the few stairs to the doorway, trying to peer around the pillar. 

His heart squeezed uncomfortably in his chest once he identified light green hair, a familiar face tilted back, lips slightly parted and puffing steady streams of breath out into the frozen world. His eyes were closed, but Dimitri could already tell he knew Dimitri had noticed him. 

Dimitri hadn’t seen him at the ceremony; he hadn’t been expecting to, admittedly, considering the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros was probably far busier than one might expect. But if he was here in the courtyard, then perhaps he  _ had  _ come, and Dimitri was too busy with the ceremony, paying attention to his wife and remembering his vows. 

Dimitri stepped closer, holding his coat tight to his body and pulling his shoulders up, trying to keep the cold away from his ears. As soon as his footsteps crunched closer to Byleth, Byleth tilted his head down, taking a moment more before opening his eyes. He turned to look at Dimitri, and though his face was stoic, Dimitri could feel the warmth there. Dimitri had spent a long time learning those features, learning to read the minute cues and signs. As if he were a fisherman intimately acquainted with the still waters of a lake, Dimitri knew the little changes of Byleth’s face as if he himself had designed them. 

“You came,” Dimitri breathed, and Byleth smiled with his eyes.

“I received your invitation,” Byleth signed, and it was only now that Dimitri noticed he was back in his black armor and coat. With the way his hair hadn’t changed, either, Dimitri could almost pretend they were back at Garreg Mach, and it was seven years ago. 

“I did not expect you to be here,” Dimitri said, only after the fact recognizing how rude that sounded. But Byleth didn’t seem to mind it--he pushed off the pillar he leaned against, standing up to his full height. 

“Of course I’m here,” Byleth signed with a resolute nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Dimitri hid his discomfort behind a laugh. “I’m sure Seteth was fond of that.”

Byleth shrugged, his eyes never leaving Dimitri’s face. There it was, Dimitri thought, casting his gaze off to his right, examining the evergreens piled with snow at the far end of the courtyard. That scrutiny, that gaze that never supposed to know anything, but attempted to learn all through observation. That look which had once, in the depths of his despair and loss, cut Dimitri open, flayed away the hardened scars and healed the tenderness within. 

Byleth scratched at the stone of the pillar with his fingernail--an old tactic he used while at Garreg Mach to get Dimitri’s attention--and Dimitri obediently looked at Byleth. 

“The ceremony was beautiful,” Byleth signed. 

“It was all my wife’s idea,” Dimitri said. “The colors, the cake, the clothes. I’m afraid I make a very poor aesthetician.” 

Byleth loosed one of his rare smiles on Dimitri, his fingers spasming. Byleth showed joy in the smallest fidgets of his hands, in the subtle wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he signed. “You have wonderful taste. I always enjoyed your looks at Garreg Mach.”

Dimitri looked to the trees again, watching sheets of snow flutter from the tall boughs with every gust of wind. The sting of the cold kept him grounded, even as his head threatened to spin. He could command armies, hold his own in combat, marry in the name of duty, but the one thing he could not do, even with all his unflinching courage, was keep himself together in front of Byleth. He couldn’t help it; with Byleth, he was so used to falling apart and being put together again. 

Cold fingers grasped his chin, and Dimitri gasped, the cold air shocking his throat. His head was gently turned toward Byleth. Looking slightly down--for Dimitri ended up the taller of them--Dimitri could intimately catalogue every little detail on Byleth’s face. His head was tilted, his brows furrowed only just so, and all traces of that congratulatory warmth were gone. 

“What’s wrong?” Byleth signed. 

Dimitri was arrested. He kept his arms around his ribs, afraid of what he would do with his hands if he let go of his coat. He chuckled, watching the puff of his breath slide past Byleth’s ear. “My apologies if I seem out of sorts, Professor,” Dimitri said. “I have, after all, just gotten married.”

“But you are out here without your bride.”

Dimitri let a bit of bitterness seep into his smile. “You never miss the important details, do you?”

Byleth tilted his head back upright. “Never with you.”

Dimitri’s stomach sunk low in his belly, and he took a step back, huffing through his nose. “Why are you here?” he asked, feeling perhaps more prickly than he had any right to. 

Byleth watched him, but said nothing. But his fingers occasionally twitched, and his nostrils were slightly flared. 

“It’s your wedding,” he finally replied. 

“And you have seen it,” Dimitri snapped. “What is keeping you here? Why are you out here, alone?”

“I’m not alone,” Byleth signed, his hands jerking. 

“Don’t,” Dimitri seethed. “Did you want to come here to congratulate me personally? Well, you have. You may leave when you wish. You needn’t poke into things you may not understand.”

Byleth’s face contorted from vague calm to the angry look he only got when he intercepted blows meant for someone else--for Sylvain, for Mercedes, for Annette, for Ashe--on the battlefield. It was a look Dimitri had seen often, but never had directed at himself. 

“I have not meant to incur your hostility,” Byleth said. “I only wished to inquire after you. For someone who has just been wed, you look distressed.”

Dimitri raked a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to bother yourself with that,” he murmured, thoroughly cowed. 

Byleth’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped into Dimitri’s space, catching Dimitri off guard. He tried to back away, but Byleth grabbed at his elbow, pulling him back in. 

“I will do as I please,” Byleth signed. His eyes were bright with frustration in the swiftly-dimming light, and Dimitri briefly wondered if he would ever stop messing up when it came to Byleth. “I will care for you as I please, Your Majesty, despite your new position, despite your new status.” 

Dimitri felt something clawing up his chest, some anxious beast threatening to wrest control of his body and send him bolting, running away. He stepped back, but Byleth swept into his path, and he backed away from the courtyard, toward the door to the old groundskeeper’s rooms. The noise from within the church began to fade away as Byleth caged him into the abandoned alcove. 

He jabbed Dimitri in the chest with a finger. “You may be caught up with your new life now, as I am with mine, but never forget I taught you once. I led you onto the battlefield for the first time, and I protected you with my life, and I would do it again without any hesitation. I still hold the same wealth of care for you now as I did then. You may be King now,” Byleth signed, his expression resolute, “but once, you were mine.”

Dimitri’s back hit the old wooden door with a rattle, his head swimming, his eyes frantic yet fixed on Byleth’s face, his beautiful, blessed face. “Goddess,” he breathed.

“Tell me what’s the matter?” Byleth asked, unaware of his proximity, of just how trapped Dimitri was. “Please? Let me…” his hands stopped, then started again, slower this time, “let me help?”

Something was off--a small wrinkle between Byleth’s brows, his lips barely drawn into a line, a tremor in his hands--

“Byleth?” Dimitri asked. 

Byleth visibly swallowed, his neck working as if every movement was calculated. “You… you all left,” Byleth signed, and he looked  _ lost _ . “You had to, I know, but you left Garreg Mach, and I stayed, and…”

His hands spasmed, and he blinked firmly before he let his hands fall to his sides. 

“Byleth?” Dimitri asked, reaching out and touching Byleth’s shoulder, and it’s as if Dimitri had awoken him. He snapped his gaze back to Dimitri’s eyes, actively searching Dimitri’s face for something.

“I do nothing better,” Byleth signed, “than look after all of you.”

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Byleth, pulling him in tightly for a hug, leaning back against the door for support. Byleth was still for a long moment before his whole body shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around Dimitri’s waist, burying his face in Dimitri’s coat. 

The sun sparkled off every touch of snow it fell upon, glittering in the snowflakes caught on the breeze. It gilded Byleth’s pale hair, outlined his black form against Dimitri’s body, as if determined to blaze a reminder of this moment behind Dimitri’s eyelids. Between the two of them, a small warmth kindled. Dimitri leaned his head low, pressing his forehead to the top of Byleth’s head, catching the honeymilk smell of the soaps the monastery made. 

Byleth pulled away, just far enough to free his hands between them. He gazed up at Dimitri, the sunset catching the edge of his irises.

“I miss you,” he signed. 

In a breath, Dimitri had leaned in low, taking Byleth’s face in his hands and pressing their lips together.

Byleth grasped at the furs on Dimitri’s lapel, easing up on his toes and kissing Dimitri with a fervor Dimitri didn’t know he had. He tugged Dimitri’s lower lip with his teeth, only just so, and each hot gust of his breath kissed Dimitri’s cheek. Dimitri ran his fingers into Byleth’s hair, cradling him and pulling him even closer. 

When they parted, Byleth still looked lost, but there was a bittersweet smile on his face. He stroked Dimitri’s cheek, and Dimitri closed his eye, letting himself tilt into the touch. 

Byleth squeezed Dimitri’s wrist, and Dimitri met his eyes. 

“Your wife,” Byleth signed.

Dimitri let himself skim his thumbs across Byleth’s cheeks, let himself smile at Byleth’s face, let himself bask in the closeness they shared. “It’s a marriage of convenience,” Dimitri admitted. “I was trying to escape the madness just have a moment. There’s nothing in it for me, really.”

Byleth watched him for a long moment. Then, he rolled onto his toes for one last kiss, this one softer and more chaste than the last. 

He pulled away, a genuine smile across his features. He said nothing, but Dimitri knew what they were both thinking. 

So instead, Dimitri said, “I hope I can see you again soon. Perhaps I should plan a visit to Garreg Mach. Bring a few old friends along.”

Byleth’s smile grew. “Garreg Mach will always welcome you all,” he replied. 

Slowly, they disentangled from one another. Dimitri let the warmth between them wash over him one last time as Byleth squeezed his hand. 

“Goodbye, Your Majesty,” Byleth signed, bowing gracefully. 

“Goodbye, Archbishop,” Dimitri replied. 

He watched as Byleth stole around the corner toward the courtyard, committing the last look Byleth gave him to memory. He waited a few moments, looking at the footprints leading away from him, before following them back to the courtyard. Dimitri was alone, gazing at the lone pair of footprints leaving the courtyard as the wind lulled the evergreens into a dance.

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a sleepy note that just said "Dimitri was in a church and byleth comes in and they talk after dimitri’s wedding and they might fuck idk"
> 
> I love this pairing, I'm also planning on doing Linhardt/M!Byleth as well so stick around for somma that sauce
> 
> still tired, love you~


End file.
